


Foundation

by estriel



Series: January Joys 2020 [1]
Category: Figure Skating RPF
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Drama, Drama & Romance, Idiots in Love, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-01
Updated: 2020-01-01
Packaged: 2021-02-26 04:22:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,375
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22071283
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/estriel/pseuds/estriel
Summary: Yuzu is not sure if this is the beginning… or the end. It feels like their entire history is made of beginnings that never lead to anything, and yet this time, an end is not what he is yearning for.
Relationships: Javier Fernández/Yuzuru Hanyu
Series: January Joys 2020 [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1593763
Comments: 12
Kudos: 72





	Foundation

**Author's Note:**

> Am I doing a January writing challenge? Maaay-be.  
January 1st prompt: _beginning_. (How cliché, I know!)

Yuzu is not sure if this is the beginning… or the end. It feels like their entire history is made of beginnings that never lead to anything, and yet this time, an end is not what he is yearning for. It feels final. It feels scary.

“You left,” he throws in Javi’s direction, and doesn’t care that his voice sounds like crying. “You never finished things. You never said goodbye.”

It is stupid, he knows, because of course Javi had said his goodbyes. The formal ones, anyway. It’s the other goodbye he means, and Javi knows it. Javi had kissed him, just that one time, after the last show of Fantasy on Ice in the aftermath of the PyeongChang Olympics. He had kissed him, and turned, and fled, and left Yuzu feeling like his chest had been ripped open and left to bleed out. A beginning… and then nothing.

  
“You didn’t even send message. Nothing,” Yuzu says, and he feels the pain stir again. He’s hurting, his body is hurting, his stupid ankle is hurting, his _soul_ is hurting. He just wants to be done.

Javi gapes at him now, a little out of breath, eyes red-rimmed as if he, too, had been crying.

“I couldn’t talk to you,” Javi snaps. “I couldn’t look at you, I couldn’t talk to you, I couldn’t even think of you.”

Yuzu stares and feels his heart begin to break anew. This is worse than he had expected. But Javi is not done:

“I never would have left Canada if – I never could have gone to Spain. I never could have left _you_,” he says and every word is full of bitterness, like Yuzu is the crux of all problems, like Yuzu is the enemy.

“Maybe you shouldn’t have,” Yuzu mutters, stung, and blinks a few times to keep his tears from spilling. He has become good at that, choking them back, keeping himself under control. Some of his pain must show, though, because Javi looks up, his eyes snapping to Yuzu’s for the first time.

“Maybe I shouldn’t have,” Javi echoes, and he suddenly looks weary, resigned. His shoulders sag under an invisible burden.

“Why do you hate me so much, Javi?” Yuzu whispers, the words coming out quite unbidden. It sounds so overly dramatic when spoken out loud and yet this is what has been circling around in his mind this whole time, the past several months, after all his messages had gone unanswered, the few phone calls he had made never connecting…

“Yuzu…” Javi whimpers and shakes his head, and then he’s stepping forward, into Yuzu’s space like nothing has even happened, arms opening to reach out, touch, embrace.

Yuzu steps back. Because it’s not so easy.

Javi stops, and stares, and Yuzu sees the emotions flicker across his face – hurt, and frustration, and then, anger, swelling up again like an ugly blister.

“You think you’re the only one who’s miserable, Yuzu?” Javi bites out. “Years, Yuzu, it’s been years. It was always – there’s always something. A competition, a new ambition, always something, and you never let me in, never let me know how you feel, how you _really _feel, what you wanted from me and… “

And this is the way they’ve always been, Yuzu realizes. Always on the brink of something, but never quite there. He has always taken a step back when he felt they were too close, or Javi had, and this is where they are now, frustrated and broken and angry. He is sick of it.

So Yuzu steps forward, finally, just to prove Javi wrong, just to prove them both wrong. He steps into that embrace Javi is no longer offering, presses their bodies together, presses his mouth against Javi’s, his hands on either side of Javi’s face.

It’s electric, Javi’s lips under his, and Javi’s body flush with his, just like he’s never dared imagine in too much detail. It takes Javi a second to process this new development and Yuzu is scared, again, that this is the wrong step, the wrong thing – and maybe it is, but Javi’s lips open for him, and his arms wrap around him, pulling him closer still, and that is all that matters for now.

It’s a blur after that. Yuzu’s not sure whose lip gets cracked as they kiss, angry and flushed, he just registers the slightly metallic taste of blood and keeps kissing Javi because who knows how long this will last, or if he’ll ever get to do it again.

Javi’s hands are on his skin, under his shirt, pulling it over his head, and he lets him, lets Javi kiss and bite down his throat, over and across his shoulders, leaving marks all over Yuzu’s skin. He lets Javi because what’s another bruise to add to the ones from all his falls on the ice. It’s nothing, nothing, and it feels so good.

It’s nothing, and it’s everything, Javi gasping into his mouth, arching into his hand when Yuzu cups him through his pants, feeling the heat of him and how much Javi wants him.

Javi wants him, and perhaps Yuzu has always known that, even though he never allowed himself to dally with that idea too much, not until Javi had gone and kissed him that first time and thrown him completely off balance and into the vortex.

Javi wants him, and even if it’s just a one-time thing, a thing they need to get out of their systems, Yuzu will take it. He tosses Javi the lube he keeps in his bedside table when they’re both naked on the bed, out of breath and out of patience. He then bats Javi’s hands away and preps himself, hissing in pain and delighting in it, because now is not the time for gentleness, no, not when he wants Javi inside him before they can both change their minds.

Then Javi pushes Yuzu’s knee up, hooking it over his shoulder, and pushes in, slow but steady, and it feels so real and incredible that Yuzu has to close his eyes and breathe for a moment.

Everything stills. Javi is motionless, a warm steady weight above him, inside him, so impossibly close.

When he opens his eyes, he finds Javi staring at him. Javi’s eyes are wide and wet and looking at him as if Javi could see straight inside his soul.

“Yuzu,” Javi whimpers, and moves his hands to Yuzu’s face, brushing his thumbs over his skin, wiping at the wetness – and when did Yuzu start crying? “What are we doing?” Javi is saying, and he’s bending down to kiss Yuzu’s forehead, his eyebrows, the bridge of his nose. Javi kisses the delicate skin under Yuzu’s eyes, the tips of his eyelashes, the tired rings there. He kisses his cheeks, his chin, and Yuzu realizes that Javi is crying, too, Javi’s tears mingling with his own. “What are we doing?” Javi whispers once again, and kisses Yuzu’s lips, so tender that Yuzu can barely bear it.

  
“I’m sorry,” he breathes, and Javi laughs, shallow and pained.

“No, I am,” he says, and one of his hands finds Yuzu’s, pressing their palms together, interlocking their fingers. “We are such idiots,” he adds, and Yuzu can only nod because how did they not find a way, how did they not figure this out sooner? How did he not _do_ anything before?

“I never should have left,” Javi says.

“I should not have let go,” Yuzu counters, and watches as Javi smiles, a small tug at the corner of his lip, but there, a smile that reaches his eyes.

“I never hated you. I could never,” Javi says, and shifts and Yuzu feels him, all of him, body, heart and soul bare, when he whispers: “I love you, you know.”

And Yuzu does know, maybe he has for a while, but had been too stupid to see, too scared to admit it.

He smiles through his tears, and leans up, up for that kiss that finally feels the way it should, not like a flimsy throw-away beginning with no conclusion, not like an angry, bitter end without hope. It feels right, and real, and solid. It feels like a foundation they can build on.


End file.
